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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154465">if all the stars align</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/morthael/pseuds/morthael'>morthael</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>stars [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Basically...'we're together. Now what??', Blow Jobs, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), But also, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Happy Birthday Keith (Voltron), Inappropriate use of Shiro's mechanical hand, M/M, Post-Season/Series 07, Praise Kink, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Sexual Frustration, Team Dynamics, Top Keith (Voltron), Topping from the Bottom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:07:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/morthael/pseuds/morthael</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Maybe Shiro was a once-a-week only kind of guy. Only, it had been more than a week, and Keith was getting embarrassingly frustrated with every maddeningly, perfectly, chaste and gentlemanly move Shiro made. And he was trying to be patient, but by god, there was a flame lit within him, a thirst fuelled by razor sharp recollections of heated and sweaty flesh beneath his fingertips, and, Keith was beginning to realise, a thirst that was near unquenchable.</p>
</blockquote>Keith and Shiro arrive back on Earth, and Keith learns how to tease apart the last remaining barrier of their relationship.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>stars [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>if all the stars align</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH!!!</p><p>I may have listened to happy Kishi Bashi music on repeat as I wrote this please listen to the link below I love his music so much</p><p>I dedicate this fic to the one and only almango whose fic testimonial is: "i camt believe keith is being edged and they’re not even fucking"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Hey Big Star, you shine too bright</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>I'm in love with you, I'm your comet tonight</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Swept me away in your blinding sun</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>We'll melt some day into each other</em>
  </p>
  <p>– <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nau9z_YiGJA&amp;ab_channel=JoyfulNoiseRecordings">Hey Big Star</a> – Kishi Bashi </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>All in all, Keith thought with satisfaction as the Black Lion hurtled back towards Earth, Operation Free Shiro had been successful beyond his wildest dreams – and, he wasn’t too shy to admit that there had been some wild dreams.</p><p><em>One or two days</em>, he’d told Shiro as they left the planet, but truthfully, Matt had hacked more than that, and Hunk had delivered at least a week’s worth of food into his arms at next to no notice. Keith had thanked him profusely, and the rations had come in useful in the days after departing Klotho.  They’d swept through swathes of inky space, sailing through breathtaking nebulae of red and cloudy purple, watching swirling galaxies push and collide; soaring past a hungry Wolf-Rayet in binary orbit with a neutron star.</p><p>The ember burning in Shiro’s eyes sparked to life with each new phenomenon passed by, the low, lilting sound of his voice soft as he named and described things that came to Keith half-forgotten from his science textbooks at the Garrison.</p><p>And in between backdrops of stunning space visuals, Keith had remained close to Shiro, taking turns piloting Black, and taking turns exchanging shy kisses while curled up in his lap. One part of Keith still felt his heart stuttering to a stop at the thought: that this was it, this was what he could have now – the other part simply clung tight, pressed up against Shiro’s warm skin.</p><p>Their gambit to take Shiro off-planet had truly paid off. Shiro looked relaxed in a way he hadn’t since – well, Keith wasn’t sure since before when. The ever-present tiny furrow between his brows – present even when they had been twin streaks of black instead of white – had smoothed out, though years of being drawn together had left a permanent, slight dimple there.</p><p>Keith ran his fingers through his lock of hair, down his forehead, touching that shallow spot, and Shiro looked up at him through his lashes, gaze fond.</p><p>They sliced through the air like that – beneath Shiro’s capable fingertips, Black flew like a dream, powerful and graceful, just like her paladin. Familiar planets whipped by in quick succession, courtesy of the circuitous route Keith had chosen.</p><p>The wormhole had deposited them at the very edge of the solar system, but now, they were almost at their journey’s end. Earth slowly grew larger through Black’s front viewport, and although Shiro longed for the stars, Keith knew he was eager to return. He could only hope that Shiro wouldn’t find it necessary to secret himself away again once they arrived, falling back into old patterns of duty and responsibility.</p><p>Keith shifted slightly – Shiro made for a nice seat, but he was no plush pilot chair, and his thighs were making Keith’s legs go numb.</p><p>A light blinked on Black’s console; before either Keith or Shiro could move for it, Black’s centre screen hummed to life.</p><p>“Hey, Keith, I – oh – okay, uh…”</p><p>Pidge’s face puckered like she had just eaten something sour. She coughed. “Well, not to interrupt anything…”</p><p>Shiro’s human hand was burning a line against Keith’s hip, and Keith was sure he would see his face flaming red if he looked down. He shifted again, but not to get off – it was too late for that – but to get more comfortable. He twisted around to look at Pidge, unimpressed.</p><p>“Pidge,” Keith said blandly. She rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Welcome back to Earth, you two,” Pidge drawled. “It’s a bright and sunny day at the boring old Garrison, as usual, with a forecasted chilly night, how surprising. Oh, and, Hunk is inviting you both for a welcome back dinner with the rest of us. Tonight.”</p><p>“Oh,” Shiro said faintly from behind Keith, “Okay.”</p><p>“I was <em>going </em>to ask how your trip went,” Pidge continued, “But now I think I already kinda have the answer to that.”</p><p>“It was good,” Keith supplied helpfully, because it <em>was</em>, there just weren’t enough words to explain how good, and how relieved Keith felt – not in the mere moments that he’d have Pidge on the screen, at least.</p><p>“Landing in five minutes,” Shiro called out. His palm was still blazing hot even through the fabric of Keith’s shirt, but his voice had evened out.</p><p>“<em>Good</em>,” Pidge sniggered, and she reached out to cut the call. “Oh, Matt’s gonna – ” was the last thing Keith heard before the communicator went mercifully silent.</p><p>The silence pooled between them slowly, unwinding like a viscous oil spill. Keith frowned. He didn’t think there much worth being uncomfortable about. Was Shiro uncomfortable? He looked down; and yes, Shiro’s face was tinged red, but he was smiling shyly up at Keith too. Keith’s heart stuttered two beats in his chest, and he hastily scrambled back, off Shiro’s legs.</p><p>“Hey,” Keith said breathlessly once he was standing. Shiro’s thumb traced a light circle, then withdrew completely.</p><p>“Guess that saves a longwinded explanation from happening later,” Shiro offered, his smile turning a touch rueful. “Hey, out of the way. Let me land this thing.”</p><p>Keith rolled his eyes, but nonetheless obediently climbed out of the way, looping his arms around the back of the seat, and Shiro’s chest, instead. “Yes sir,” he breathed out.</p><p>Shiro jumped a little; the pad of his chest jarred against Keith’s chin and Black twitched as they hurtled through the atmosphere.</p><p>“<em>Keith</em>,” Shiro said reproachfully. His eyes flicked to Keith’s for the barest moment, his hands steadying on the controls. Beneath them, the Garrison, and Atlas’s hangar came into view. “You look…” He frowned. “Far too satisfied for your own good.”</p><p>Even this, the teasing whine in Shiro’s voice, this so rarely surfaced that it was practically novel to Keith. He grinned back.</p><p>“What’s there not to be satisfied about?” Keith asked, as Shiro brought them in for a low pass over the Garrison, spotting a clear outcropping and kicking up clouds of orange-red, easing Black gently to the ground. “You’re here, after everything, you’ve been healed by quintessence – you’ll never need those god-damn bracelets again – you’ve bonded with Black again, you’re…”</p><p>He trailed off, the words ready on the tip of his tongue, but saying them a slightly different matter. He said them anyway, determinedly: “With me. <em>With me</em>.” The second time, the words came out differently; something soft and reverent, a phoenix rising from his ashy voice.</p><p>Shiro’s smile was decidedly gooey now, and Keith melted at the sight of it, transfixed. The chair swivelled smoothly, and then Shiro was rising up, gathering him into a gentle hug. This was new, too, the easy way with which Shiro touched him, unreservedly and with <em>so </em>many more points of contact.</p><p>“Yeah, Keith,” Shiro said, the lowness of his voice vibrating through Keith’s body. “I am.”</p><p>The kiss after that was slow and tender, the warmth of it seeping through Keith’s lips, face, chest.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The sun was at its most scorching zenith by the time they climbed through the mouth of the Black Lion. Keith watched Shiro shield his eyes as he stepped off onto solid ground.</p><p>“Back to the Atlas, I think,” Shiro remarked.</p><p>“We’re not stopping at the command deck,” Keith said quickly. Shiro huffed out a surprised laugh, but didn’t object.</p><p>The hike back onto Garrison grounds and the hangar was hard after a week spent in a cool, climate-controlled environment. By the time they boarded the Atlas, Keith was covered in a sheen of sweat. He brushed a trickle of it at his temple away with a forearm.</p><p>“Definitely need a change of clothes,” Shiro mumbled, sniffing tentatively at the collar of his shirt. “And a shower.” Shiro’s neck was damp, and Keith could see faint beads of perspiration shining through the stubbly fade of his undercut.</p><p>They reached Shiro’s quarters without fanfare – Keith suspected some interference from Atlas, because the walk to the room was blessedly short, and they didn’t run into a single soul the entire way. Shiro palmed open the door, stepping back to wave Keith through first.</p><p>Keith rolled his eyes, but complied anyway. He dropped the bags he had been holding onto the ground, and as the door slid shut behind Shiro, whirled around, pushing Shiro until his back hit metal. He lunged forward, intent on getting his mouth onto Shiro’s; his leg pressing between Shiro’s thighs.</p><p>Shiro’s mouth opened in shock; Keith used the opportunity to fiercely lick into him, hands curling into Shiro’s sweaty hair, frissons of sharp tingles running across his fingertips as he dug into short bristles at Shiro’s buzzed neckline.</p><p>Shiro tried to lean back, but he was already plastered against the door. His mouth moved unevenly against Keith’s, muffling his words. Unhappily, Keith pulled back, staring up at Shiro.</p><p>Shiro’s face was flushed, his lips shiny with spit. Keith licked his lips automatically, wetting the corner of his mouth that was still chapped.</p><p>“Keith,” Shiro croaked, sounding winded. “We just got back – ”</p><p>Keith responded by running his hands down Shiro’s chest, down his stomach. Shiro’s hands grabbed at him before they could go any further, circling firmly around his wrists. Keith felt an honest-to-god whine build in his throat; he choked it down before it could come out, and squinted defiantly at Shiro. “So?”</p><p>“God, Keith, you’re…” Shiro laughed weakly. “Hold your fire there, I need a shower before I do anything.” His grip around Keith’s wrists loosened as Keith stepped back reluctantly, a frown drawing across his face.</p><p>“Alright, go,” Keith huffed. He picked up his bags again as Shiro peeled himself off the door, retreating into his ensuite. He flung them at the foot of Shiro’s bed – perfectly made to regulation – and then tugged off his shirt, flopping down, deliberately mussing the precisely folded covers. The cool sheets were a balm against his overheated skin; he sank into them, inhaling deeply, and perhaps it was his imagination, but Keith could almost smell Shiro’s scent lingering in the air around him. In the next room, he heard the sharp spray of water hit tiles.</p><p>After that night aboard the Black Lion, they hadn’t been intimate again, not like that first time.</p><p>At first, it had been Keith, mournfully tracing over the parts of Shiro’s skin where he had scored him with his nails and teeth, apologising until Shiro had stopped him gently and asked him to apply some ointment to his skin instead. (Keith had suspected this was more for his benefit than Shiro’s). Then, it had been Shiro, worrying that he’d been too rough when Keith had woken up the next day with a limp. Then they’d both been distracted – Keith, with following the star map his mother had patched through to the Black Lion, along with dutifully navigating to Allura’s wormhole coordinates; and Shiro, gazing in wonder at the backdrop of a million mesmerising space phenomena, some of which, he told Keith, had previously existed only in scientific theory.</p><p>At night, Shiro had slept deeply, restfully – his muscles finally at rest with whatever magic the healing spring had to offer. Keith knew that he personally had still been feeling the aftereffects for days after, his skin deepening to purple at strange times, vision sharp in a way he knew meant his eyes had morphed into gold.</p><p>But still, Keith couldn’t fault all the ways that they <em>had </em>been together, even if some other part of him was burning for touch. Shiro had liked Keith curling up next to him in his sleep, pressing into Shiro’s back, fingers tracing the hard planes of his abs, then working upwards. It was like a light massage, Shiro had said, right on the edge of ticklishness, but grounding after the nothingness of being held in Black’s consciousness. He hadn’t said that in as many words, but Keith had understood anyway, holding Shiro tightly and scraping blunt nails back and forth, a rough, impromptu kneading of skin.</p><p>Keith’s eyes flickered closed at the memory of Shiro’s warm skin against his palms, the soft sheets and Shiro’s lingering scent lulling him to sleep. He barely heard the spray of water in the bathroom ease up and stop, halfway to unconscious by the time the door cracked open again.</p><p>He stirred after some time, blinking the sleep blearily from his eyes.</p><p>“Hey, beautiful,” Shiro’s voice said teasingly, and Keith groaned.</p><p>Shiro was on the floor by the bed, a datapad clutched loosely in his fist. Keith looked down; Shiro’s captain jacket had been thrown over his upper body as he slept.</p><p>Now that he’d had a chance to cool off, the air-conditioning in the room felt slightly chilly. He shivered, holding the folds of Shiro’s jacket closer.</p><p>“How long was I out,” Keith muttered.</p><p>Shiro chuckled. “Two hours, give or take a few,” he said. Keith groaned again, as Shiro added: “Enough time for you to freshen up before dinner.”</p><p>Keith cursed. “Do we have to?” he grumbled. “I’d rather just stay here.” The thought sounded more appealing by the moment – he wouldn’t mind staying in Shiro’s bed, looking down at Shiro’s face, which was currently…crinkled in amusement. He frowned sulkily. It only made Shiro’s smile grow wider.</p><p>Well – he didn’t mind that, actually.</p><p>“I’ll go,” Keith said, sitting up and scrounging around on the bed to find where he’d flung his shirt to. “Don’t worry.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Shiro said, smiling easily. He extended his arm, easily pulling Keith to his feet. “Want me to come with?”</p><p>“No,” Keith said. “I’m just getting a shower and change of clothes.”</p><p>“Alright. I’ll come by 1700 hours to pick you up.” Shiro’s voice was steady, cadence never wavering. “Hunk pinged me an address while you were out. Some place in the city. We can go there together?”</p><p>“Yeah, Shiro,” Keith tugged his shirt over his head again. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”</p><p>Shiro walked Keith to the door, but before hitting the panel, brushed his fingers across the back of Keith’s neck, just beneath his hair. Keith stilled.</p><p>“See you then,” Shiro said, and then leaned down to kiss Keith lightly on his lips. Keith sighed into it, leaning into the addictive taste of his tongue, but reluctantly withdrew before either of them could get distracted, or turn the kiss sloppier. Shiro had just spent effort to clean up, after all.</p><p>He palmed the door controls open, giving Shiro one last smile before stepping out into the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Keith’s room was a fair walk from the Atlas, on Garrison grounds. It had been his temporary quarters after Voltron had returned to Earth – not the same cramped dorms he’d had as a cadet. It had the benefit of having its own bathroom, which Keith took advantage of gratefully, stepping underneath the spray, heat turned up as high as the faucet could go.</p><p>After he came out, the next challenge was finding a clean change of clothes. He hadn’t had much in the way of ‘casual’ in his years in space, and certainly nothing on an Earth that hadn’t seen him in as long as that. And he’d taken most of what little he did have on his journey with Shiro.</p><p>His pathetically stocked wardrobe did have a spare red and white jacket hanging in it. But, for some reason, something felt off about wearing his Garrison uniform to what clearly wasn’t a Garrison event.</p><p>And the war was over. Keith wouldn’t mind if none of the Paladins ever had to wear a uniform again.</p><p>With a frustrated sigh, Keith kicked the wardrobe shut. He was sure he’d be able to find a clean shirt somewhere. Even if it was crinkled. He wore crinkled things all the time.</p><p>At exactly 1700 hours, or as close enough as Keith could discern, there came a smart rap on his door.</p><p>“Coming,” he called out, tugging on a faded pair of jeans he had managed to find buried beneath a stack of dirty towels he’d been meaning to launder before they left Earth. The Garrison’s laundry system wasn’t quite as advanced as the Castle’s had been.</p><p>He made his way to the door.</p><p>“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said, or, that was what he tried to say, except what came out sounded more like a strangled stammer as the words caught midway up his throat, and then refused to budge.</p><p>Shiro’s hair was a little windswept, the forelock artfully blown across his forehead. The beginning of a delighted smile was curling around his lips. But what captured Keith’s attention was the white dress shirt Shiro was wearing, the top button devastatingly undone, and the rest of the material stretching unfairly across his chest. The floating arm had something dark draped over it – Keith recognised it as a black bomber jacket. Old timey. His right sleeve was gone, of course, but his left was rolled up just past the elbow, revealing a forearm corded with muscle.</p><p>Keith wanted to run his hands up that forearm. His throat was dry at the thought.</p><p>“You alright, Keith?” Shiro asked. That gentle smile had stopped curving upwards, and he looked lightly concerned now, completely unaware of the effect his stupid collared shirt was having on Keith.</p><p>“Just fine,” Keith croaked. He suddenly felt compelled to tuck his wrinkled tee in. “Let me just…”</p><p>Turning away, he ducked back towards his bedside table, scooping up his blade and slamming it into its sheath at the small of his back. “Yeah. Ready to go.”</p><p>Shiro was in the doorway, but peering in, looking inquisitively around the place. “Sure you don’t want to bring an extra layer? Might be cold on the hoverbike at night,” he said.    </p><p>Keith thought about his Garrison jacket, sitting on its coat hanger in the wardrobe. He shook his head, crossing the room again, back to Shiro. “I’m fine,” he repeated.</p><p>As they left Keith’s room, Shiro brought his warm arm around Keith’s shoulder, drawing him in close. Keith reached out reflexively, catching a hold of Shiro’s wrist, then lightly drawing his nails up his arm. Shiro smelled like spring and fresh linen; Keith subtly tried to breathe a lungful of it in.  </p><p>“Let’s just take one of the bikes,” he suggested when they reached the Garrison garage. “You drive.”</p><p>Shiro laughed, the arm around him squeezing tight. “Why do I get the feeling I’m being taken advantage of, here?” he asked.</p><p>Keith huffed. It had been an instinctive, impulsive action to demand Shiro pilot the Black Lion. Something that he just knew Shiro could do, even after everything; something he knew would calm what lingering uncertainty there was in Shiro’s heart about his place in the team, as a Paladin.</p><p><em>This</em> was the same, but spliced with something…slightly more selfish.</p><p>“Your back is warm,” he told Shiro. “And the desert is cold.”</p><p>Shiro’s smile was helplessly amused and knowing in equal parts, and Keith knew his cover was blown even as Shiro played along, throwing a leg over the seat.</p><p>“Well, hop on,” he said, and Keith leapt up behind him, crowding his chest against Shiro. Shiro wiggled, twisting in his seat as the hoverbike growled to life, and a warm weight draped itself across his back. Shiro’s jacket, Keith realised, and the scent clung closer to him as he threaded his arm through the left sleeve, and then the other through the carefully altered hole that was the right sleeve.</p><p>“<em>Shiro</em>,” Keith said, folding completely against Shiro. He tightened his arms around him. He tilted his chin up, pressing his mouth against the back of Shiro’s neck. His lips parted, teeth scraping just barely over Shiro’s skin. He felt Shiro shiver, the fine silver-white wisps of baby hairs on his neck standing in sharp relief.</p><p>Keith wanted to kiss him, to bite him, to suck a mark into his neck. A needy sound emerged from his throat; his hands twitched lower.</p><p>“Keith,” Shiro groaned, his Altean arm snatching at his wrists, pulling them away. “Baby, not right now, we have a dinner to get to.”</p><p>The part of Keith that desperately craved affection from Shiro melted in a confused, pleased daze at the endearment; the rest of him sobbed for sweet relief, the simmering heat slowly rising to a boil as they sped out into the desert.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The address Hunk sent led them to a smallish building in the neighbouring Plaht City. Keith was well acquainted with the general area – Voltron had assisted greatly in the reconstruction efforts there – and it seemed that they’d acquired their very own apartment for their troubles.</p><p>The lights were all on in the building, and Shiro had hardly let his knuckles tap on the door for a heartbeat before it tore open.</p><p>It was Lance at the door – wearing a garishly blue cardigan, but a neatly pressed button-down underneath – his mouth stretched into a grin immediately at the sight of them, and he stepped aside, furiously waving them in.</p><p>“Guys, they’re here!” he hollered, and Keith found himself cracking a tiny smile in response. Lance’s voice was <em>just </em>on the right side of shrieky, but it was the kind of fever pitch he’d started to identify with excited warmth.</p><p>On cue, the rest of the group slowly trickled into view – Allura and Pidge coming in from what must have been the living room of the moderately spacious apartment, and a moment later, Coran and Hunk emerging from what could only have been the kitchen, judging by the mouth-wateringly savoury aroma Keith could smell wafting in from behind them.</p><p>“Hey, everyone,” Shiro said, ever the one to take initiative, but his voice was flecked with a note of hesitancy.</p><p>Allura stepped forward immediately.</p><p>“Shiro,” she said softly. “Oh, Shiro.” And then she was powering forwards, arms outstretched and flinging around his neck. “I’m so happy,” she whispered ferociously, “I’m so happy that you’re alright.”</p><p>Shiro’s arms came in tight around Allura. “Me too,” he said back, voice rough and thick, and Keith’s heart clenched, his eyes and face softening into an expression he knew could only look absolutely dopey.</p><p>But how could he not, surrounded by everyone who had conspired to let him take Shiro to the stars and to be healed, surrounded by those who held nothing but love and affection for Shiro in their hearts?</p><p>“Alright, hug time!” Hunk yelled, and bustled forwards, dragging Coran in under an arm and throwing the other over both Shiro and Allura. They staggered a little under the new weight.</p><p>Lance whooped and dived in as well, Pidge taking a running start to launch herself onto Hunk’s back. Keith stood back helplessly, his heart full as he gazed at Shiro’s face, overwhelmed and half buried amongst a tangle of limbs, but so, so open and giddy.</p><p>“Keith!” Twin voices rang out, and Lance and Pidge twisted around to stare at each other in shock before dissolving into giggles.</p><p>“Get your ass over here,” Lance ordered imperiously, stabbing his finger at the empty spot next to him.</p><p>“Group hug’s not complete without you,” Shiro added, his special, soft smile blooming over his face. “Get over here, Black Paladin.”</p><p>Pulled in like the tide, Keith went, placing his arm around Lance’s shoulders, huddling into his team, and, <em>oh. </em></p><p>His friends.</p><p> </p><p>The dinner was a feast of an affair managed by Hunk and Coran. Dishes were plated up containing a mixture of Earth and alien ingredients – whatever was plentiful and in season at the marketplace, Coran proudly told them. Both Allura and Coran exclaimed over a few combinations of flavours that reminded them of Altea; a few of the Earth dishes seemed familiar to Keith, but it wasn’t until he saw Shiro grinning, stabbing into what could only be a pimped up, Hunk-style mac and cheese that it dawned on him – they were an improved version of comfort foods from the Garrison cafeteria.</p><p>Coran, meanwhile, had procured some kind of liqueur from the alien marketplace, syrupy sweet and boozy, but sitting on Keith’s tongue much, much more comfortably than nunvill. He was feeling pleasantly buzzed by the end of the night, after playing retro video games with Pidge (lost, badly), arm wrestling with a tipsy Lance (won), and ending up burrowed snugly under Shiro’s chin, in his arms. Shiro had, by the end of the night, lost another button on his shirt, and Keith fought with the hazy desire to dig his hands into the revealed skin.</p><p>With dinner packed up and cleared away – dishes cleaned in record time by the efficient, well-oiled machine that they were – each of them started gravitating towards sleep.</p><p>“The whole building is actually ours,” Allura had said, hands gesturing around a little wobblily. “They wanted…wanted to make Alteans feel <em>welcome </em>here, so they built it and jus’ <em>gave </em>it to us.”</p><p>What it meant was that they were all welcome to take any of the rooms in the apartment building. Shiro had nodded his thanks at Allura, and proceeded to half-carry Keith’s sorry carcass down the hallway. Keith probably could have stood, but he let himself be moved, feeling the flex of Shiro’s bicep against him and the smelling the fresh scent of Shiro’s cologne, faded by now from the long night into deep vanilla.</p><p>They rolled into bed together. Keith’s hands fumbled at Shiro’s buttons, any grace of his, trained or natural, gone at the warm, solid block of muscle beneath his fingers.</p><p>“Shiro,” he slurred out, trying to climb on top of him.</p><p>“Keith,” Shiro said, and damn him, he barely sounded affected at all. “Keith, stop, you’re not thinking clearly.”</p><p>“I want you,” Keith said, uncomprehending, as Shiro gently pushed him back, pressing cold glass to his lips.</p><p>He swallowed trustingly, cool water sluicing down his throat. He clutched at Shiro.</p><p>“There you go,” Shiro whispered to him, setting the glass down with his Altean arm. “Come on, let’s sleep.”</p><p>Keith put his hand back on Shiro’s chest. “Take it off,” he said, pitching his voice as steady and sober as possible. “Please.”</p><p>Shiro hesitated, but then moved, undoing the last few buttons with efficient ease and shrugging the shirt off.</p><p>Keith wound his arms around Shiro’s chest and wrapped his legs around his waist.</p><p>“God, I’m never letting go,” he mumbled into Shiro’s neck. “I love you so much.”</p><p>He heard Shiro’s breathing stutter, and he was vaguely aware of the words that had so easily rolled off his tongue, but he ignored it, curling in closer. Words weren’t important. He could never get them out right. He just <em>wanted</em>, so very much.</p><p>Shiro’s breathing steadied, and his human hand came up, brushing through Keith’s hair affectionately, rubbing through his scalp in even, methodical little circles. Keith’s eyes closed.</p><p>“I love you, too,” Shiro said softly, and planted a small kiss on his brow.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The next few days passed in a strange, similar vein:</p><p>In the morning, Shiro would be at the Garrison or the Atlas, attending important meetings about the state of the universe and the Coalition. Sometimes, Keith and the rest of the Paladins would be there too, standing in diplomatic solidarity. At other times, Keith would be flying around Earth in his Lion, or together as Voltron, touching down at various Garrison bases to assist in carrying out repairs – or boosting morale.</p><p>In the evenings, Shiro would invite him to dinner. Once, it had been at a newly opened diner near the Garrison. The food had been greasy but familiar. Another time, they’d flown halfway around the world to a restaurant that served dishes in pretty, bite-sized chunks. That tasted better, but left him feeling vaguely unfulfilled, after. Then they’d cooked in the Atlas, goofing off and burning home-made burger patties together.  </p><p>Keith didn’t know what to make of it, especially afterwards at night.</p><p>Maybe Shiro was a once-a-week only kind of guy. Only, it had been more than a week, and Keith was getting embarrassingly frustrated with every maddeningly, perfectly, chaste and gentlemanly move Shiro made. And he was trying to be patient, but by god, there was a flame lit within him, a thirst fuelled by razor sharp recollections of heated and sweaty flesh beneath his fingertips, and, Keith was beginning to realise, a thirst that was near unquenchable.</p><p>It all came to a head a few days later. After a difficult, long negotiation with a group of belligerent, ungrateful aliens – in which Keith barely restrained himself from hissing in fury as they commented first on Galra involvement in the Coalition, and then in the same breath, condescendingly on Shiro’s capacity as a leader – he was ready to tear out of his own skin, pacing like a wounded predator on Shiro’s immaculate floor.   </p><p>Shiro emerged from the bathroom, hair swept cleanly upwards and wearing that same bomber jacket as before. Keith jumped to attention, in more ways than one, feet stuttering to a stop on the hard surface.</p><p>Shiro made a face. “You’re going to wear scratches into that, with the way you’ve been stomping around,” he said, lacking any heat in his voice. “And I’ll have to get it waxed again,” he added.</p><p>Keith took in a deep breath. Shiro was calm. He could be calm, even if he was in fact itching to cross the floor and wrestle him down onto the bed. “Where are we going?” he asked instead.</p><p>“Your old house,” Shiro said. “What do you say? Come watch the sunset with me?”</p><p>Keith would go anywhere if it meant hanging out for longer with Shiro.</p><p>“Yes,” he said immediately.</p><p>Not long after, they were racing out into the desert on Keith’s old hoverbike, chasing the sun as it inexorably dipped towards the horizon, the light filtering and scattering into arcs of cloudy purple blended with streaks of orange. After some minor grumbling from Shiro, Keith had allowed himself to be pushed into his seat at the helm, but any disappointment was quickly chased away by the feeling of huge, solid arms circling around his waist, Shiro’s bulk settling firmly against his body.</p><p>They caught the sun just as it began its final descent, layers of dusky gold painting the sky. Keith’s shack was in sight, just down the high bluff that they had parked against. Shiro peeled himself off the hoverbike, coming around to the side and resting against it, face tilted to the evaporating rays of light. The colour of the sky zinged against his hair, painting a fiery halo to its unearthly paleness.</p><p>Keith clambered off too, joining Shiro at the side of the hoverbike, and, after a moment’s hesitation, knocked their hands together lightly. Shiro responded in kind, strong fingers twining around Keith’s.</p><p>“What do you think?” Shiro asked, his voice pitched low. “Even after everything Earth’s been through, it still looks the same. Kind of makes you want to calm down.”</p><p>Keith wasn’t looking at the sunset. He leaned in closer to Shiro, and the line where their shoulders touched and met felt like molten fire.</p><p>Shiro turned his head to face him. It was too close, and Keith could pick out his individual eyelashes from the distance, even in the dying light. He stilled, hardly breathing.</p><p>“May I kiss you?” Shiro breathed softly, but the sound carried easily to his ears, sending a shiver that tingled all the way down his spine.</p><p>Keith had to clear his throat twice before his airways unstuck. “Do you even have to ask?” he croaked out.</p><p>His answer was the feeling of Shiro’s lips crashing onto his own, his tongue giving way as Shiro finally, <em>finally </em>licked inwards, searing with heat and intensity. He tried to raise his hand, to anchor against – the hoverbike, Shiro, anything for support, but it was locked in Shiro’s grasp, and with a tug, he was falling against Shiro, against his huge, wonderful chest.</p><p>Shiro’s tongue licked a steady, thorough line into Keith’s mouth, heedless of the way Keith fought back, goading him into something hotter, untamed and wild. When he drew back, it was with Keith pressing forward, chasing after the taste of his lips.</p><p>“Shiro,” Keith gasped, rocking forward unevenly into Shiro’s hips. Shiro’s arms reached down, stilling his movement, and he almost cried out with frustration.</p><p>“Shiro, please,” Keith said, “Come on. Don’t make me beg. I want it. I want you, so much – ”</p><p>Shiro’s human hand brushed over his cheek, tracing at the outline of his scar. Keith felt it trembling faintly against his skin.</p><p>Shiro’s forehead dipped against his. “I know, Keith,” he whispered. His hand shook. “I just – I just want to make it good for you. I – I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know you deserve something special. Not rushed. Something good.”</p><p>Shiro squeezed his eyes shut.</p><p>Keith swallowed. He didn’t know to untangle this, but there it was, Shiro trying to bear the load of navigating their relationship like it was some burden he had to shoulder alone. He didn’t know what to say, but – he had to say something.</p><p>“Shiro, I – ” he fumbled, embarrassment rippling through him, then soldiered on, his face a mask of determination. “Shiro, it could be anywhere, at any time – I wouldn’t care, I’d still be into it. I want you. I want everything.”</p><p>With a start, Keith realised exactly what had been going on in the last week. “You don’t need to, to take me out or do special things with me,” he said, “You don’t have to – I’m fine with this, I want to just be here, with you.” He hesitated. “But.”</p><p>Shiro stirred at the word, because of course he’d snag at the one thing that could possibly be perceived negatively. Keith bit his lip.  </p><p>“Shiro,” he urged, “Please, it’s been two weeks since you fucked my brains out on the Black Lion and I want a repeat. Right now.”</p><p>Shiro’s breath hitched, his hand flexing around Keith’s waist in surprise, and he reared back a little. Keith pursued him, smacking his mouth against Shiro’s clumsily, digging closer, ever closer into Shiro’s touch.</p><p>“Please,” he sighed against Shiro’s cheek as he pulled back for air, “Anything.”</p><p>A brief moment; then Shiro seemed to come to a decision, his shoulders squaring as he pulled back, pinning Keith in place against the hoverbike with a stare. “Alright,” he said with a rough sort of intensity, and then his Altean arm came forward, pushing on Keith’s chest lightly but insistently, until he was pressed all the way up against the hoverbike. He left his arm there even as he sank to his knees, undoing Keith’s belt swiftly with a dexterity Keith didn’t know was possible with one hand.</p><p>“Let me take care of you,” Shiro said huskily, and then Keith stopped thinking as Shiro dragged his boxers down over jutting hipbones, his mouth plunging onto his cock, all the way to the hilt.</p><p>“Oh god – Shiro – !” Keith momentarily whited out. It was good that the Altean arm was keeping him pinned to the vehicle – his knees were jelly, he could barely feel his feet on the dusty ground.</p><p>Shiro’s mouth on him was like the burning sun, each pull and lick at that damningly even, steady pace but still just enough to drive Keith wild. His breath caught in his lungs, trapped and hiccupping out in short gasps. Shiro’s other hand travelled upwards, rucking up his shirt, tracing heated trails over his taut stomach.</p><p>With barely enough brainpower to function, Keith looked downwards at Shiro, who locked eyes with him as he hollowed his cheeks, swirling his tongue in a way that brought an embarrassing whimper out of his mouth. He twitched helplessly, his hips jerking and making Shiro grunt around him; the sound only made him transcend further, chest heaving for air.   </p><p>“<em>Shiro</em>,” Keith moaned out, and in response, Shiro’s hand trailed across Keith’s side, latching onto his hand and drawing it to rest on top of his head. Keith’s fingers curled automatically into the fine strands of hair, tightening and pulling without meaning to as Shiro eagerly lapped at him. The movement drew a tight moan from Shiro, rumbling through his chest and reverberating through his mouth, the sound going straight to Keith’s dick.</p><p>The dimming light suddenly sharpened and drew into sharp focus, hazy blue turning crisp and clear, and when Shiro looked up again, his eyes rounded in brief surprise – and Keith knew his eyes had changed again, slitting and turning that pale, inhuman yellow.</p><p>The thought brought clarity to Keith’s mind for a second – he stared down at Shiro, his mind working furiously.</p><p>Shiro was on his knees in the dust, working Keith thoroughly apart without a single thought for himself. Taking control, taking <em>care of him</em>, when he was the one that deserved to be loved, spoiled, taken apart like he’d taken Keith apart on board Black –</p><p>“Shiro,” he gasped out against the feeling of the hottest man in the universe sucking his cock, “I wanna fuck you. Shiro – ”</p><p>Shiro sucked him harder, and Keith’s eyes rolled back as he choked out a strangled noise. His expression changed, now; Shiro’s eyes were bright and his mouth drawing into a coy smile as he eased off Keith, working his jaw out. Keith looked down at him blearily.</p><p>“You want that, huh?” Shiro said, his voice deep and rough – rough from swallowing Keith down. “You can get it…if you still can after I finish up here.”</p><p>He plunged back down then, his Altean arm letting up from its firm hold across Keith’s chest, and Keith sagged down without the support, knees buckling weakly. <em>Weak</em>, he was so weak for Shiro.</p><p>He found out what the Altean arm was doing a second later as mechanical fingers skittered up the swell of his ass, curling towards his entrance. Keith jolted, the movement snapping his hips more firmly into Shiro’s mouth, and he almost lost himself as a single slick digit stretched into him.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Keith said, assaulted from both sides, but Shiro’s words somehow managing to catch and ignite his stupidly competitive nature. “You fucking – nngh – bet I can, old timer,” he growled out, like he wasn’t already on the edge. He didn’t <em>lose</em>. His nails sharpened, hand tightening and pulling on Shiro’s hair.</p><p>Shiro crooked his finger in answer, slipping a second digit inside as Keith bucked wildly, and with a few more bobs of that tight heat around him, Keith was coming, moaning shakily as his cock pulsed into Shiro’s mouth.  </p><p>It was probably half a minute of Keith lying there, slumped blissfully in his aftermath, before he started to come back. Shiro rose to his feet smoothly, pressing in and caging Keith against the hoverbike. His fingers withdrew, the Altean arm returning to its natural position by his side, and he offered a chaste kiss against Keith’s cheek. “You did so well, baby,” Shiro whispered, his lips brushing against Keith’s cheek with each word. “That was so hot, watching you come for me.”</p><p>Keith felt his cheeks heat at the words, his stomach doing a little flip that it did when stupid stuff like that came out of Shiro’s mouth.</p><p>“<em>Ohh</em>,” Shiro crooned, and Keith felt his lips quirk upwards, “You like that, don’t you? You like it when I say nice things to you?”</p><p>Keith turned his face towards Shiro’s. “Shut <em>up</em>,” he groaned, and surged for Shiro’s mouth, tonguing his lips open and licking deep. He tasted his own come. “Come on,” he said, drawing back and working ineffectually at Shiro’s clothes. “Take your pants off. Now.”</p><p>Shiro complied, smiling cheekily at him all the while, and Keith couldn’t prevent the twitch of interest his dick gave as Shiro slid his boxers completely off, baring his trim waist and his muscular, perfectly round ass.</p><p>He pushed off the hoverbike, guiding Shiro to swap places with him, only…</p><p>“Up here,” Keith said, patting the join between the wing and body of the hoverbike. He grinned. “Bend over, Shiro.”</p><p>“Mmm.” Shiro draped himself over the wing, glancing back at Keith. So far, he seemed okay with letting Keith call the shots. That was good.</p><p>“Is this how you want me?”</p><p>Keith’s mouth ran dry at the sight of Shiro bared before him, spread over the hoverbike and patiently waiting for him. He licked his lips. He was suddenly keenly aware of his own lack of experience. Uncertainty rocked him; he didn’t know what to do with his hands, his mouth.</p><p>Shiro looked back again, his expression immediately softening as he caught sight of Keith’s face.</p><p>“Keith,” he breathed, “Baby, touch me here.” And then his Altean arm was back, catching hold of his wrist and guiding him forward, until his hand rested on the firm curve of Shiro’s ass. “Touch me, and I’ll tell you what I like.”</p><p>Keith felt coolness hit his fingers, and looked just in time to see the Altean arm retreating, a small bottle almost disappearing in the width of its palm. He licked his lips again, tongue dragging against the chapped sides, then cautiously moved forwards, consciously willing his claws to retract. He’d clawed Shiro all over last time they’d fucked; he wasn’t about to hurt him any more.</p><p>Nervously and with a thrill in his chest, he pushed in with a single finger, slipping in with ease with the amount of lube Shiro had poured all over his hand. Shiro shifted beneath him, his hips lifting slightly as if trying to suck him in deeper, and Keith bit back a choked noise as he saw Shiro’s face, eyes fluttering closed and an honest-to-god keen emerging from his throat.</p><p>“God, Keith, just like that,” Shiro said thickly, “Give me more, give me – ah, that’s perfect – ”</p><p>He continued to babble into the metal that his cheek rested against, expression honest and wide open and blissed out as Keith added a second, then third finger, his dick painfully erect again at the sight of Shiro moaning and clenching around him.</p><p>He fingered Shiro faster now, digits thrusting into Shiro’s ass as he rocked back against him. Shiro’s words had petered out into mumbled moans, muffled against the wing but each sound viscerally wrapping around Keith. The next thrust hit hard – he knew it by the way Shiro stiffened underneath him, air punched out of him with a sharp cry. “There,” he moaned. “There, Keith, please – again – ”</p><p>Keith was going to fucking come untouched with the way Shiro breathed his name. “Shiro,” he choked. “Shiro, I – ”</p><p>Shiro shuddered, his hips stuttering and stilling. “Want you to fuck me now,” he said hoarsely, and Keith squeezed his eyes shut and his jaw closed before he made another embarrassing noise.</p><p>“<em>Keith</em>.” Shiro’s voice was gravel, rough with desire.</p><p>Keith carefully eased his fingers out, doing his best to breathe evenly at the needy, punched out moan Shiro gave as his fingers slipped out of his ass.</p><p>“<em>Now</em>, Keith,” Shiro gasped, and if it was any other time Keith would have teased him about patience, but all he could feel right now as he pressed the head of his cock against Shiro’s hole was the sheer amount of self-control he had to exert not to instantaneously come.</p><p>“Oh god,” he whimpered as he pushed further in, and the claws were back, his vision bursting into clarity. Shiro was harshly panting beneath him, sweat gathering in the hollow of his shoulder blades as he clamped down on Keith.</p><p>The thick slide into Shiro was unreal; the tight heat wrapped completely around him. Keith drew a deep, shuddering breath as he bottomed out, and Shiro <em>still </em>tightened, clenching hard.</p><p>“O-oh god, Shiro – I can’t – I’m going to – ”</p><p>He was going to come just like this, pathetically half sprawled on top of Shiro and buried deep inside him – he was about to –</p><p>“No,” Shiro growled out, and Keith froze at the tone of his voice, guttural and powerful and <em>commanding </em>him down from his high. “Not until I say so.”</p><p>Trembling, Keith slumped down towards Shiro, burying his face in the hard muscle of his back. Shiro’s scent was stronger here; he licked at his shoulders and tasted salt. His teeth felt so sharp in his mouth; he grazed them down Shiro’s back and felt him shiver.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Keith said weakly, because in his mind he’d thought he’d be controlling the pace, driving Shiro into mindless pleasure, but he’d been totally unprepared for just how intoxicating it was inside Shiro, surrounded by his smell and his enveloped by his heat and slickly brushing against him skin-on-skin.</p><p>“Good boy,” Shiro said, and Keith’s entire body lit up, sparking like an exposed wire. He muffled his moan against Shiro’s shoulder by biting into the yielding skin and shallowly thrusting against him, rewarded by the sound of Shiro’s throaty groan.</p><p>Yellow swam across the edges of Keith’s vision as Shiro urged him to move once more, and he went, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up, hips jerking as he dove in and out of the close heat, each slick slide of his cock electrifying in its pleasure.</p><p>He sped up without meaning to, driven on by Shiro’s pleased, approving moans, and soon he was snapping his hips at a punishing pace, blood rushing in his ears, feeling and hearing nothing but the slap of his skin against Shiro and the hot, intense clench of Shiro’s walls as he drove into him wildly. Shiro had stopped rocking his hips back on Keith’s cock; the pace was so fast that he could only lie there, a breathy moan punched out with the force of each thrust.</p><p>The haze had fully descended over Keith; he growled low in his throat as he fucked into Shiro. He needed to be closer – needed Shiro to be closer. His hands raked at Shiro’s skin, he pressed his face into Shiro’s back, sucking bruising kisses into the exposed skin, licking up trails of sweat, nosing into Shiro’s side and under his arm and inhaling him whole, his scent, everything.</p><p>“Keith – baby, I’m close,” Shiro gasped out, his voice utterly wrecked, and Keith keened, driving harshly into him – but he wouldn’t come, he couldn’t, not until –</p><p>“Come with me,” Shiro moaned, “Come with me – oh god, I’m coming – ”</p><p>Keith came helplessly at the sound of Shiro’s voice, lost in waves of pleasure as he pulsed into him. Shiro’s hole clenched with each wave of his own release, milking Keith’s cock and prolonging his orgasm.</p><p>Keith collapsed onto Shiro, his arms and elbows finally giving way, feeling the way Shiro heaved and gasped underneath him, catching his breath.</p><p>By the time his breathing had settled, he was strong enough to heave himself back up, gingerly easing out of Shiro and flushing red at the sight of come obscenely dripping out of his hole, evidence of their coupling.</p><p>Keith gazed down at Shiro’s back, fondly – the look turning to ice the moment his eyes registered what was in front of him.</p><p>“Oh fuck,” he squeaked, because there really was no more generous way to describe the sound that emerged from Keith as he stared down at Shiro’s back, peppered with deep, purpling bite marks and hickeys, from mid-waist all the way up to his neck. Trails of angry red lines scored Shiro’s sides.</p><p>Shiro chose that moment to move, surging to his feet and dislodging Keith who yelped, barely catching his balance in time. He swept purposefully into Keith’s arms, slotting his mouth over Keith’s in an open, wet kiss.</p><p>Keith allowed himself to indulge for five seconds, then broke away. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. His stupid fucking Galra genes and his stupid fucking self control. Was he going to do this every time?</p><p>“Don’t be,” Shiro said, and his voice was still rough and hoarse, but it swelled with so much affection even Keith could hear it layering his voice like drizzled honey. “God, Keith. You’re so good.”</p><p>Keith flushed again, trying to turn away, hit Shiro had him held close, trapped in his arms. “You’re perfect,” Shiro whispered into his ear, and Keith couldn’t stop the way his body shivered, unbelieving. “Keith. <em>My </em>Keith.”</p><p>“My Shiro,” Keith mumbled back, more out of reflexive combativeness than for the words to really stick, and Shiro laughed knowingly. He knew the way the gears turned in Keith’s mind. Keith ducked his head, suddenly abashed.</p><p>Shiro hummed against him, and Keith cast around for something, anything to distract from his bout of shyness.</p><p>“Can I ask you a question?” he blurted, and when Shiro looked at him curiously, slowly nodding, he chewed on his lip, hesitantly.</p><p>“<em>Keith</em>,” Shiro said, his finger tapping against his mouth.</p><p>Keith released it, blowing out a breath. “Does this mean we can fuck more than once a fortnight?” he asked, and there really hadn’t been any way to cushion the question in the seconds he’d had to think it through. Shiro’s eyebrows rose and rose, before a tiny grin tugged at his face, threatening to dissolve into real laughter.</p><p>“Don’t laugh,” Keith grumbled. “This is all your fault.”</p><p>Shiro fought the smile like the capable warrior he was, but the shadow of it still smirked at Keith. “Yes, Keith,” he said, still firmly wrapped around him. “<em>Much </em>more than once a fortnight, I think...”</p><p>Sated, and now relieved, Keith leaned into Shiro contentedly. “That’s good,” he sighed into Shiro’s neck. “’Cause I really liked that.”</p><p>He snuggled in, chasing Shiro’s warmth as the last rays of sunlight faltered and finally dipped away into the horizon.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Keith woke up in stages, in one moment his limbs heavy and threaded with sleep, and the next, fitful and on the cusp of clear consciousness. It was still dark out, no light to be seen streaming in from the one dirty window in the shack, but Keith’s eyes pierced the gloom easily, sweeping balefully for threats. He realised why he had woken a heartbeat later – Shiro was gone.</p><p>Or rather, <em>most </em>of Shiro was gone – his mechanical arm was still pressed up against Keith’s chest, its hefty weight a solid reminder of his presence. His fingers were tucked up against the slope of his neck, fingertips just brushing against the expanse of his throat. They moved at his touch, awake, wiggling in some silly facsimile of a hello, and Keith rolled his eyes.</p><p>“And where’s the rest of you?” he asked, a touch grumpily.</p><p>As if in response, the hand seized a fistful of his sleep shirt, tugging insistently until Keith rose from the bed, still sleep-mussed and rolling his eyes at Shiro’s antics.</p><p>The hand transitioned its hold as Keith pulled fully upright; it let go of his shirt in favour of trailing down, keeping a point of contact at all times – it had to, Keith thought, for Shiro couldn’t actually <em>see </em>where his arm was going, though the touch still tingled through his clothes pleasantly – until it snagged his hand, tangling their fingers together and then <em>pulling</em>.</p><p>“Ugh,” Keith said, powerless to do anything but follow Shiro’s arm, one step at a time, pulling him across the floor of the shack and out the door, into the cool desert night. “I’m coming – slow down, Shiro, I thought you were <em>patient</em> – ”</p><p>The arm pulled him steadily out, never once stopping, sure in the way it held Keith’s hand that Keith wouldn’t stumble or fall. Just trust in whatever Shiro was doing.</p><p>Eyes adjusted to the black vastness of the desert, it didn’t take long for Keith to spot the rest of Shiro, leaning back against the hoverbike, a distance away from where he knew they’d parked it earlier in the night. The hoverbike’s engine was completely cut – its engines silent and lights powered down.</p><p>Keith shivered, his thin shirt not quite enough to stave off the chill as he approached Shiro.  </p><p>“What are you doing out here?” he asked in exasperation, shaking at the hand still tangled around his own. “Shiro? What time is it even?”</p><p>Shiro grinned at Keith boyishly, the arm giving a final tug and sending Keith crashing into him, shocked breath forced out of his chest.</p><p>“I think it’s around 0400 hours…”</p><p>Shiro’s voice vibrated through his ribcage. His arm finally let go. Keith shifted against him with a long-suffering sigh, but he couldn’t bring himself to drum up much more than a mild shove against Shiro’s chest. His absurdly broad, solid chest.</p><p>“Here you go.” Shiro’s arm made another miraculous return, this time clutched onto Keith’s red Garrison jacket. Keith made no move to get up, so Shiro flapped it once in the air and draped it over him, the material fluttering and settling over him like a blanket.</p><p>Keith’s head thunked forwards, forehead landing hard. “Ow,” he mumbled, then more heatedly, “Why is your chest so – god damn – ” He felt Shiro move, peering down at him in interest.</p><p>“ – <em>big</em>,” he finished, a tad lamely.</p><p>He felt Shiro draw in a breath, and instantly knew he would hate whatever came out of his mouth –</p><p>“Keith, the bigger the chest, the bigger the heart is,” Shiro said, utterly serious, except Keith just knew he was waggling his stupid eyebrows. He groaned, elbowing Shiro in the stomach and gleeful when there was a quiet <em>oof </em>and Shiro stopped and clutched him closer, laughing into his hair.</p><p>They stood like that for a few seconds longer, Keith revelling in the way Shiro’s body slotted so perfectly against him, hands winding around his waist and locking them in a close hug.</p><p>“No, really, Shiro,” Keith finally managed to say, a lone, conscious spark of his brain reminding him that they were out here, in the cold night instead of in a warm bed, for a reason. “What are we doing here?”</p><p>Shiro wordlessly pointed up, and Keith followed his gaze, staring up at the open expanse of the night sky – his mouth falling open in shock.</p><p>The stars were always clearer out in the desert. They’d be visible from the Garrison rooftop, countlessly scattered across the sky, but the Garrison was a hub of activity at all hours, floodlights polluting and obscuring the view.</p><p>Here, in the desert with Shiro, the stars seemed so much sharper, all light interference gone, banished from civilisation; the pre-dawn infused the inky sky with touches of faint blue and orange near the horizon. The stars stretched out infinitely across the sky, an unbelievably huge cosmos.</p><p>And the stars were beautiful, yes, but what drew Keith’s attention were the flashes of light that trailed across the sky, lines of white that slashed starkly open the night sky.</p><p>“The Orionid meteor shower,” Shiro said, tipping them both back against the bike so they could gaze upwards, angled to the south. “We’re passing through the wake of a comet right now.”</p><p>“Breathing in the cosmic dust,” Keith said, smiling up at Shiro. He was gazing with a reverent softness at the falling stars that made Keith’s heart ache, tenderness and wonder and longing all so wrapped up it took Keith’s breath away.</p><p>“Hey,” Keith said softly, nudging Shiro, “We’ve been up there.” He drew their hands together again, palm against palm, his pads mapping out the shape of Shiro’s fingers against his. “We’ll go up there again. Many times, together.”</p><p>Shiro turned his gaze to Keith, the same soft wonder in his eyes, and Keith squeezed his hand tight, never once letting go.</p><p>They watched the meteor shower together until dawn claimed the sky.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://morthael.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/anuveon">twitter</a></p><p>does anyone else appreciate Shiro's hand cause I do :)))</p><p>come talk to me on twitter I love screaming into the void but I love chatting with people more!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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